


Gunpoint

by Lakritzwolf



Series: Whumptober 2019 [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: BAMF Lorenzo to the rescue, M/M, gun crimes, gunpoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 10:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: Written for Whumptober 2019Day 5: Gunpoint





	Gunpoint

After making sure the mundane woman would be okay, and having convinced her and her friends that it had been a rabid dog that had attacked her, Andrew set off in pursuit of the Shax again. He could still hear the scrabbling of claws, so he should be able to catch up. After sprinting around a corner he stopped, pressing his back against a wall. He could hear more voices, but it didn’t sound as if the Shax was around. His back against the wall he pushed himself along, to cautiously peek around the next corner.

No, definitely no Shax demon anywhere in sight. And whatever the three men were talking about, it wasn’t the sighting of an ugly, supernatural, freaky creature. The bastard had given him the slip. Maybe he shouldn’t have spent so much time making sure the woman was okay.

He heard a sound behind him and spun around, expecting the demon, but instead found a man wearing a grey hoodie with the hood pulled up so his face was almost hidden in shadow.

“What are you doing here, asshole?”

Great. An Incident. And Angel was he looking forward to writing and handing in that report.

“There was a woman who was attacked by a rabid dog and I was trying to-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because the thug tried to throw a punch at him, a rather pathetic one. Andrew dodged it easily and kicked the legs away under him, and having no intention to make this any worse, he stepped past the man who was trying to get onto his feet again.

“Not so fast, asshole!”

Andrew had to evade the kick aimed at his feet, and after that he spun around, to find himself looking at the other three.

“Look,” he began, knowing perfectly well that this was a waste of breath. “Can we just-”

Even with the nearby traffic, and the howling of what had to be the ambulance, Andrew heard the unmistakable sound of a handgun being cocked.

“I would shut the fuck up if I was you,” one of the three in front of him said, and produced a hand gun as well.

Andrew could feel the muzzle of the gun pressing against the back of his skull, and he carefully and slowly lifted both arms, palms upward. “Look, I just-”

A kick aimed at the back of his legs sent him stumbling, and he landed painfully on his knees.

“Hands on the back of your head,” the one behind him said. “And if you move, the cops can scrape what’s left of your brain from the wall.”

Andrew took a deep breath and tried to analyse the situation, to find a way to get out of this. But he had a gun pointing at the back of his head, and was looking into the muzzles of two others. One guy with a gun he could have taken on, but three?

The fourth one now came closer, went down onto one knee next to Andrew, and began rummaging around in Andrew’s pockets. Since he never took a wallet when out on patrol the thug found nothing of interest other than his phone, and his stele. He eyed that with a frown.

“What’s this shit? A fancy lighter?”

Andrew didn’t reply; maybe it was best to let him believe that. Maybe he could get out of this without getting shot, and then be able to track them and get his stele back.

“What is this?” the thug barked, thrusting the stele into Andrew’s face.

_A tool made from a celestial metal infused with angelic powers to activate runes on my skin to give me superhuman abilities_, Andrew thought. Sure, that would go down well.

“It’s... ah... it’s sort of a flashlight.”

“A flashlight.” The thug turned the stele over in his hand. “How do you switch it on?”

“There’s a...” Andrew cleared his throat, still hyper-aware of three guns pointing at his head. “There’s a knack to it. Can I...?”

“Nice try, asshole.” The thug pocketed the stele and got up, but before Andrew could even take another breath he kicked him in the ribs so hard he fell over. Before he had time to suck some air into his lungs the thug had pulled the seraph dagger from his thigh holster.

“Look at this motherfucker,” he said, eyes widening as he stared at the runes on the blade.

Andrew was in so much trouble. He was so fucked. Not only running into mundanes and ending up like this, which was humiliating enough, but also losing his blade and stele? He would be lucky if he didn’t end up on Wrangle Island after that.

“Where’s your wallet, asshole?” The thug grabbed a fold of his jacket to haul him upright again.

“I don’t have it with me.” Andrew swallowed and closed his eyes, because he could feel the metal of the gun press against the back of his head.

“Try again,” the thug said, looking up from the blade. “A guy like you doesn’t forget his wallet at home. Not when he has toys like these.”

“And what about the thigh holster?” the one behind him asked. “Fancy flashlight, a knife like that, what are you? Some sort of high-end bodyguard?”

“Sort of,” Andrew said after taking a deep breath. He was beginning to feel desperate; he couldn’t see a way out of this.

“Last time: Where’s your wallet,” the thug asked who was still holding the seraph dagger.

“We don’t need him to answer that,” the one behind Andrew said. “We can just put him down and search his corpse.”

Had the others realised he had gone after the Shax? Did they wonder why he wasn’t coming back? Because he could use some serious back-up right now. Andrew’s heart was beginning to race, and he was beginning to feel honestly afraid for his life. Nephilim or not, he couldn’t survive a bullet to the head.

“Yeah, do it,” the one who was still looking at Andrew’s blade and stele now said. “He’s seen too much any-”

A blast of light threw him against the nearest wall, and only a heartbeat later two bursts of golden fire shot out at the one behind Andrew, and the others in front of him. All three of them were obliterated so fast they didn’t even have the time to scream.

“FUCK!” The thug dropped the blade and the stele and staggered away from the wall. “That guy has a motherfucking flame thrower!”

He tried to make a break for it, but he, too, was engulfed by a surge of gold and orange fire, and just like the others, didn’t even leave a pile of ash behind. Andrew’s blade and stele clattered to the ground, unharmed by the magic that had killed the man holding them.

“Andrew!” Andrew looked up again, trying to catch his breath back.

The fiery light died around Lorenzo’s hands as he knelt down next to Andrew, and was replaced by a gentle golden glow as he examined him for injuries.

“I’m fine...” Andrew sat up, aided by Lorenzo who closed both hands around his shoulders.

Lorenzo searched his eyes. “You don’t look fine.”

“Yeah...” He shrugged. “That was a close shave.”

Andrew took a few deep breaths before getting onto his feet, and on still slightly unsteady legs, he walked over to the wall to retrieve his blade and stele. Behind him, Lorenzo opened a portal.

“Thanks,” Andrew said to him as he sheathed his blade. “That was some really impeccable timing.”

Lorenzo gave him another once-over, and sighed. “Get into the portal before I have to disintegrate any more mundanes to save your skin,” Lorenzo muttered, looking around.

And after checking again to make sure that he had left no further traces, Andrew gave Lorenzo a nod before he stepped into the portal.


End file.
